


Sons

by Ink_Gypsy



Category: LOTR RPS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-12
Updated: 2010-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-07 05:17:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ink_Gypsy/pseuds/Ink_Gypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elijah feels his estrangement from his father more deeply on Father's Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sons

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Father's Day 2008, in memory of my father.

[](http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v283/seanelijah/?action=view&current=FathersandSonsSean.jpg)[](http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v283/seanelijah/?action=view&current=FathersandSonsElijah.jpg)

Sean got out of bed quietly, trying his best not to wake me. I let him think he'd succeeded. After he extricated himself from my arms, I gave a little moan, turned on my side and hugged Sean's pillow to me. To seal the deal, I did a spot on imitation of a snorer suffering from a deviated septum. Then through the narrowest of eye slits, I watched him. Seemingly convinced I was asleep, Sean left our bedroom carrying a pair of sweatpants and a tee-shirt he obviously planned to put on when he was outside. Once he was gone, I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. I knew why Sean was sneaking off like a thief in the night, knew he was doing it to spare my feelings, even though I'd told him countless times there was no need, that I was totally fine with things the way they were.

Sean would never hurt anyone intentionally –- it pains him on the rare occasions when he does it unintentionally -- and while his sensitivity and his caring are among the many things I love about him, all this cloak-and-dagger business was really unnecessary. I planned to give Sean a few minutes to get settled, then go and tell him so.

He was already at work on his laptop when I found him in the spare room we'd set up as a home office. I stood there, leaning against the door jamb, just watching him as he typed. He was so deep in concentration that he had no idea I was there, and even though I knew Sean wouldn't appreciate it, I couldn't resist sneaking up on him. When I was standing right behind him I said, "If you find any good porn sites, don't forget to bookmark them."

At the sound of my voice, he whipped around in his chair. If he'd been caught in flagrante, Sean couldn't have looked more guilty, which made me feel sorry for pulling such a juvenile stunt.

"Jeez, Elwood," he said in a shaky voice, "you scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry."

Sean lowered the laptop's screen. "It's all right, I was just surprised. You were sleeping so soundly when I got up."

I shook my head. "I wasn't asleep."

"But you were snoring." I did an impromptu encore of my snoring performance and Sean sighed. "If you were awake you should have said something."

"You seemed so intent on escaping unnoticed, I figured you'd rather be alone."

"Elijah..."

I was being childish and I knew it. "Look, Sean, I know why you didn't want to wake me when you got out of bed, but all this extra effort wasn't necessary. I just wanted to tell you that. Now you can get back to whichever of your fathers you were chatting with."

"I wasn't chatting."

"E-mailing then."

Sean looked defeated, but I found little satisfaction in being right when he looked so miserable. "I was writing to Michael," he said.

Michael was Michael Tell, Sean's biological father, a man he'd met after he was already an adult.

"Seanie, just because it's Father's Day doesn't mean you have to walk on eggshells around me, and you sure as hell don't have to sneak around your own home just to get in touch with people you care about."

"I know," Sean replied, "but that doesn't mean I have to throw it in your face."

This was a conversation we'd had before, and it didn't surprise me that the subject had come up again today.

At twenty-seven, I've had over a decade to come to terms with my abandonment issues regarding my father, and for the most part, I think I have. I will admit that I still feel a twinge of regret on Father's Day, the one day each year devoted to father/son bonding, but it's pretty difficult not to when by June 1st, you can't read a paper or a magazine, watch television or even listen to the radio without being bombarded with advertisements about buying just the right gift for Dad, taking Dad out for dinner, or just spending time with him on his special day. It's tough to deal with that kind of Father's Day media blitz if your father is dead, or in the case of my own wayward father, if he might as well be. And it sure doesn't help when the man you live with has not one father figure, but three.

Even though Sean had eventually found his biological father, the man he considered his real father was John Astin, who had adopted him and raised him from a toddler, and who with Sean's mother Anna, had given him his half-brother Mac. John and Anna eventually split, but John had remained a constant in Sean's life. Added to that, he got along really well with his stepfather, Michael Pearce, the man his mother had married several years after the divorce, making Sean's cup runneth over on Father's Day.

"You're not throwing it in my face," I told him. "It's what it is, Sean, and nothing can change it. My father left me. That was his choice. It wasn't my fault, and it certainly wasn't yours."

"That doesn't mean I can't feel bad about it," Sean said solemnly.

I smiled at him. "And I love you for it, Irish, but I hate being the reason you feel guilty about a situation you had no control over. You have three wonderful men in your life who love and care about you. I'm happy you have that."

Sean tried his best to return my smile, but couldn't quite manage it. "I wish you could have that, too," he said wistfully. "I wish there was some way I could give it to you."

As long as I'd come this far, I figured I might as well get it all out. "So do I," I admitted, "and to tell you the truth, Astin, sometimes I'm fucking jealous of you because of it. But that doesn't mean I'm not happy that you have all three of them in your life."

When he didn't say anything, I was afraid my brutal honesty had hurt Sean. For a minute he just stood there looking at me. Then he stood up and put his arms around me. It was a hug rather than an embrace, and I was glad of that because I couldn't have dealt with anything sexual right then. Sean seemed to understand that, and knowing his touch was meant only to comfort, I relaxed against him and just let him hold me.

I'd told Sean that my father's absence in my life didn't bother me so I didn't give a shit one way or the other about Father's Day, but the truth was, from the time Sean had left me alone in bed, I'd been indulging in an old game of mine I called _What If?_.

As much as I'd dealt with my father's leaving, the reasons behind it had always plagued me. Rehashing it again was masochistic, and yet I'd been asking myself the same question over and over for most of my life.

> _If things had been different, would my father have stayed?_

  
I'd been just a kid when he left, and even though I told Sean I knew it wasn't my fault, all through my childhood I'd worried that maybe it was. The major changes to my family had come about because of me, after all, so I wondered  


> _What if Mom hadn't started me modeling?_
> 
> _What if I'd never been offered the chance to act?_
> 
> _What if our family hadn't moved away from Iowa?_

  
And the most self-destructive question of all,  


> _What if I could have been a better son?_

  
Contemplating that last possibility always produced the same result, and as I felt the first heat of tears behind my eyes, I pulled away from Sean, determined not to let him see how close I was to crying. "Finish your e-mails," I said brusquely. "I'm going to have a cup of coffee and a cigarette. When you're done, come and have breakfast with me."

Sean didn't try to stop me from leaving, and when he finally joined me, we had a leisurely breakfast together, followed by a completely lazy Sunday. Times when neither of us were working were rare, so we took advantage of the opportunity to spend some quality time with each other.

To my relief, aside from the phone call Sean received from Ally, Lizzie and Bella, the topic of fathers and Father's Day remained strictly off-limits for the rest of the day. Then as we were getting ready for bed, Sean handed me a piece of paper and said, "There's something I want you to see. It's from Dad."

That meant it was from John. "What is it?" I asked.

"It's his reply to the e-mail I sent him this morning. I printed it out so you could read it."

I held the paper out, urging him to take it back. "No, Sean," I protested, "it's personal. Whatever your father wrote is private, meant just for you. I'm sure he wouldn't want anyone else to read it."

Sean refused to take the paper from me. "I don't think he'd mind if you read it," he said. "I only printed out the part where he talks about you."

That took me totally by surprise. "He talks about me?" I asked.

Sean nodded. "See for yourself."

"All right," I gave in, and looking down at the paper, began to read.

> **I've always been proud of you, Sean, not only because of your excellence in school and the success you've attained following in the footsteps of your mother and me, but also because of the way you've lived your life. You've always stood up for what you believed and never backed down, even when the cause you supported wasn't the most popular. But I've never felt prouder of you then when you followed your heart in your personal life.**
> 
> **I'll admit I was skeptical at first. I was sure what you felt for Elijah was just an infatuation, and believed that if you left Christine, you'd regret it for the rest of your life. I know now that I was wrong. A father's greatest wish is for his child to be happy and successful. If he's lucky, he gets to see his child fall in love, and if he's even luckier, he gets to know that his child is loved in return. I can see that you've never been happier, and it's obvious to me that's because you've found the love of your life in Elijah.**
> 
> **I can think of no better day than Father's Day to share my feelings with you about this, and to wish you a long and blissful life together. I love you as I do all my children, but the joy he's brought you has made me realize that I have enough room in my heart for another son. **
> 
> **Sean, do you think Elijah would mind if I think of myself as _his_ father, too?**

  
When I looked up from the printout, my eyes were wet. Sean put his arms around me again, but this time as he held me, I didn't pull away or try to hide my tears. 


End file.
